


And I Found Love

by milka121



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milka121/pseuds/milka121
Summary: “Undo me,” Galo says.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	And I Found Love

**Author's Note:**

> not beta'd.   
> most of a ventfic than anything, really

Surprisingly enough, it turns out that the fact that they have had each other at gunpoint once does nothing to diminish their mutual attraction, Galo notices. One would think that slamming each others into buildings and all associated moral dilemma of their sides of war would be something of a taboo in the bedroom and definitely not something that, when pressed enough, would make Lio groan and growl and pound Galo so hard he’s pretty sure their neighbours will file a complaint for noise pollution soon.

Anyway, life is great. Even more so when Lio comes back one day with his face twisted in a scowl - not really something uncommon these days, even though usually Galo is also there to kick whoever is the case of that.

“Welcome home,” Galo tries. 

“Bend over the table,” Lio growls in the general direction of Galo as he tries to close the front door while still looking menacing and dangerous and absolutely  _ delicious _ . 

Well, there goes the sweet domestic bliss, though Galo can’t deny how embarrassingly hard his dick gets in seconds and just how easy it is to just do as Lio says in that harsh tone of his.

He pushes his underwear with the sweatpants. “Bad day?” 

Lio slaps his bare ass. Galo yelps, surprised - and then not so surprised when Lio does it again.

“What do you think?” Another one, hand landing on his thighs, making him shiver and try to get away on its own. 

Lio is there to make sure he doesn’t. 

“I just -  _ mmh! _ \- thought you might want to -  _ aaah! _ ”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you think too much,” Lio says, and if he keeps slapping Galo’s ass like this he’s not going to be able to sit for the rest of the day and probably tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow, too. Lio is  _ very  _ good at slapping him. “Don’t you have any shame? Any fucking brain in that head of yours? Or are you just a little living cock sleeve eager for me to get you into licking my boots and beg?”

“Please,” Galo says, even though he has no idea what he’s pleading for. Honestly, anything that Lio would come up with is a blessing every time. He and Galo are weirdly compatible considering everything that divides them.

Or maybe, Galo thinks as Lio’s hand twists in his shirt and pushes him down onto the cold kitchen floor, it’s exactly because they are so different that it’s working out so well. There is this unspoken trust between them now, something neither of them really fully acknowledges or pays attention to, especially with so much  _ need _ flooding them and overwhelming any part of their minds that can be still considered reasonable. 

Galo likes being unreasonable. Especially when Lio is in that leather attire of his that looks so much like the one Galo remembers, and when  _ this  _ reminds him of the way when Lio slammed him through three stores of a building and almost cut him in half with a blade of fire. Especially when Lio looks down at him, squirming at his feet with that dark something writhing just below the surface of his eyes, something that is nothing as simple as hate or love or even something in-between. 

Galo doesn’t care.

“Undo me,” Galo says.

Lio forces the tip of his boot so far Galo’s throat he might have dislocated his jaw.

“Disgusting,” he growls, and Galo’s blood sings. “You’re pathetic. You are  _ nothing _ .”

Galo’s skin stretches and lips hurt, pulled beyond what once he would think he could take. Then again, he wouldn’t slobber around someone’s boot and moan with delight. He would fight and scream and  _ stop, it hurts so much _ , but it’s so much easier to simply look inside himself and admit that he really is exactly what Lio says he is: an irreparable mess of flesh and lust that cannot be a person anymore. 

There has always been a hole inside him, hungry and gaping and festering, desperate for something, anything or anyone that would fill the emptiness that has grown inside of him like a tumor, unseen by anyone but himself. He was sure it would swallow him whole one day, turn him inside out and show the world just how much the teeth of the abyss had chewed through him.

Then Lio looked at him like he’s nothing, flaming with anger, and Galo was full.

Because Lio is not  _ anyone.  _ Lio is Lio, and Lio is everything, with sparks igniting parts of Galo that he never thought possible. And that’s why Galo has to be nothing; there’s so much Lio, slipping and dripping with the raw power of his being, and Galo licks it all from where it lands, drop after drop.

Galo is nothing and Lio is everything.

Lio rips through his jaw and Galo thanks him for it. He smiles through the blood quickly filling his mouth and tries to say something, but the only thing that comes out is a sick gurgle, bubbling spit already staining the floor.

Lio doesn't wait before pushing into him, and it hurts in the sharpest, sweetest way possible.

Lio loves him. He loves Galo enough to trust him to get himself together, to have enough stubbornness not to pass out or try to do something stupid. Enough to know that Galo can take it, even though he'll have to hide from work and public eye for a while. Lio loves him, and that's everything.

Lio's hand twists in Galo's hair and Galo's head snaps back so hard he sees white.

"I hate you," Lio hisses in his ear, hips snapping, tearing Galo in half. "I hate everything about you. I hate how stupid you are, how everyone adores you, how you're still just a fucking doormat begging to be trampled on and used and broken. I hate how everyone forced me to be here and pretend-"

The rest of the sentence dies in a grunt and the sound of slapping flesh when Lio's hips stutter once, twice - and he's coming, muscles tensing and shaking for a few seconds before shoving Galo away.

"You're not even hard," Lio says. "You're getting worse at your playing house."

Galo is not hard. He knows he should, but he isn't. Well, it's not like it really matters most days. The days that Lio talks are - were few at the beginning, but recently are growing more frequent.

Galo wonders what that means.

"I love you," Galo gurgles through the blood and mangled tissue.

Lio doesn't look at him as he turns around and disappears into their home.


End file.
